Lt. Katrina Ivanovna slumped slowly to the ground, having just heard a voice scream; a voice she recognized as her own from when she was a little girl. All at once, she wasn't in Engineering any more, she was in a smoky corridor. Two Klingons had forcibly grabbed her mother, who in turn was begging Katrina to run.
"Run, get away from here!" Katrina's mother was saying, before a Klingon hand clasped around her mouth to quiet her.
"Mommy!" the six year old Katrina cried out, a drawn out cry, with pain and anguish in her voice. As one of the Klingons broke his grasp on her mom to make a move towards capturing her, Katrina bolted away down the hall.
Frightened and crying the six year old Katrina ran down the hall. She spied an access panel to some non-essential system, and opened it up; even at six, she was showing signs of the resourcefulness that would eventually get her the Tactical station and Security Chief positions aboard the Bristol. She crawled inside, her small body barely fitting, and managed to close up the panel behind her in time to avoid detection. There she sat, crying at the violence around her, not understanding. She cried on and off for almost two days, not daring to leave the safety of the access panel, despite her stomach crying out in hunger. Yet it was so dark, she was scared of staying in the access panel. She was scared of all the heavy footsteps that went by; scared to even breathe. She hated being so scared.
On the eve of the second day, as she was dozing off, the sound of someone jimmying the access panel open jerked her awake. She began to cry loudly, and continued, even as the panel opened and two people in Starfleet uniforms helped her out. She fought them, not knowing who they were or what they were doing, but they managed to hoist her out after only one or two kicks in the face.
As the two Starfleet officers were helping the six-year old Katrina so many years ago, yet so real to her now, two Starfleet officers were shaking her twenty-four year old frame. "Lt. are you alright?" one of them kept saying. "I'm not sure she recognizes us; I sense a great deal of fear and hostility."
"She's got a minor skull fracture and a lot of internal bleeding," the other one said. "Her right wrist is broken and she has several cracked ribs. We've got to get her back to the Bristol."
"Can we move her?" someone asked.
"Not safely; we need to get a stretcher to safely get her to the beaming site."
"I'll get one," said a female voice. "Bristol, this is Yilaan; beam over a stretcher and a dozen security officers at once!"
Katrina heard her name again, "It's going to be okay." a female voice was saying. For a moment, it was one of the two Starfleet officers in reality, the next it was her aunt at the funeral for her parents. Katrina was six years old again, and she was crying. Her aunt was saying, "It's going to be okay dear," and holding her as she wept. Her mother was among 45 casualties from that ship that day, a day that a Klingon battlecruiser, whose captain hated the new peace treaty with the Federation, went on a rampage. He attacked several ships before being destroyed by a combined Klingon and Federation task force. Since her father had died the year before, raising Katrina fell to her aunt.
She had never been able to face the darkness after that; the darkness, the danger she felt that went with being totally alone in the dark. It had gotten easier over the years, but it was still hard for her at times.
Katrina heard more voices again; these seemed more real somehow. "Where is Ensign Bradley?" one said.
"Scanning.....I'm getting something from this storage area," another said, opening the panel. "Commander!" she said with alarm, "We're going to need another stretcher."
The sounds of animals began to break the silence around Commander Yilaan and Dr. Giovanni as they waited for the stretchers to arrive. Yilaan pulled her phaser, "This won't hurt them at all, but it might scare them off. The beams just bounce off, but sometimes it's enough to get them to flee," she said to the doctor who nodded in acknowledgement.
Suddenly a four foot reptile jumped out at them; both officers fired upon it, their beams bouncing off onto more engineering panels, sending sparks flying. The creature fled the attack and they were alone again.
Soon after, twelve guards, two medics and two stretchers arrived. Three of the guards appeared injured.
"Report, Ensign," Commander Yilaan said to the leader of the guards, Ensign Williams.
"We were attacked sir," he responded to her, using the Starfleet gender-neutral sir. "Some of those creatures y'all described jumped us. We killed one and chased the rest off."
Yilaan nodded, "Let's get these people ready and let's get out of here!"
The team rushed back to the bridge of the Larson without further incident and was successfully beamed back to the Bristol. Those injured were taken to sickbay, while Commander Yilaan reported to the bridge to give a report to Captain Freeman.
"Based on Reiv's findings, I'd say the Larson's crew is dead. I don't know how the ship became infested with these four foot reptiles that we kept running into, but they're resistant to phasers and tough to beat."
"Recommendations?" Captain Freeman asked.
"Inform Starfleet and then tow the ship back for decontamination," said Commander Yilaan flatly.
Freeman stared at his first officer for a moment, flinching at the harsh way she'd said 'decontamination' and then answered, "Agreed." He then turned to the tactical officer replacing Ivanovna, "Lt. O'Shea, contact Starfleet and tell them we're bringing the Larson home, and all crew are lost. A report from me will follow."
O'Shea acknowledged and completed the task.
"How are the injured crew members?" the captain asked.
Yilaan responded, "Ivanovna and Bradley are in very bad shape; the three guards that were injured are better off and should recover soon."
The captain frowned and nodded. He turned to face tactical, "O'Shea, get a tractor beam on that ship; we'll rig it for towing." He called out to Lt. Reiv, "Lt., prepare to bring us around and take us back to the starbase. Engage at full impulse when the tractor beam is in place."
"Aye sir," the two officers responded, and soon the Bristol was under way.
"I'll be in my ready room; you have the bridge Yilaan," the captain said to his first officer who nodded in response.
A few hours worth of travel time passed, while the captain sat in his ready room, reading the reports of his officers, and filling out one of his own. The status of the two severely wounded crew members hadn't changed much. The doctor had assured him that she would let him know, but he had continued to pester her anyway. When she compared him to a mother hen, he had stalked out of Sickbay and lost himself in paperwork. As the captain was about to take a break from the reports and order refreshment from the food dispenser in his ready room, the door buzzed.
"Enter," the captain said, and Commander Jevor stepped into his ready room. "Computer, apple juice, three degrees celsius," Captain Freeman said to his food dispenser. The drink appeared and the captain placed it on his desk. "Can I get you something Commander?" he asked Jevor.
"No sir," Jevor said, and then got down to business quickly, "Captain I think I can get us back to base a bit faster, if you're interested."
The captain looked at Jevor with a slightly amused expression, "With your skills I'm not surprised. What do you have in mind Commander?"
Jevor looked a little uncomfortable at the complement, but continued, "I've been working on an experimental configuration designed to compensate for the shearing effects of a tractor beam at warp. See normally none of this would be a problem if the Larson's engines were online. Since they aren't, we wouldn't normally be able to go to warp and keep them in tow, but I think we can."
"What's the risk factor?"
The chief engineer shifted in his chair, "Well sir, it could damage us and the Larson if it doesn't work. I can install safeguards on our ship to cut the tractor beam automatically at the first sign of a real threat to either ship."
"Get it done Commander. I don't want to be hauling the Larson around any longer than necessary," the captain replied.
Jevor smiled, "Thank you sir. I should have the modifications done in a couple of hours." Jevor left the ready room, and the captain sat back in his chair, taking a draught of apple juice with a faint smile on his face.
Two and a half hours later, the captain was on the bridge, having idle conversation with an ensign at one of the science stations, when he was hailed from engineering.
"We're ready to try out the new configurations," Jevor said over the intercom.
"Very good," the captain replied, as he moved around the tactical station towards his chair. "Ensign Gates, edge us into Warp 1."
"Aye sir," Gates complied. "Shearing on the Larson within upper end of tolerance; tractor beam output is at 150% of standard," she reported.
"Nice job Jevor," the captain said over the intercom to his chief engineer. "How long can we hold this, and could we get even more speed out of it?"
"We could probably punch it up to Warp 3, but I don't think we should hold that for too long; a few hours at most," Jevor's voice crackled over the intercom.
"Ensign, give us Warp 3," the captain ordered.
"Aye Captain," Ensign Gates replied. The Bristol started to shake at that point, and the computer's voice came on, warning of the over-exertion of the tractor beam, and threatening to 'terminate it' in 30 seconds unless something was done about it.
"Ensign bring us back to Warp 1," the captain ordered, and then called Engineering over the intercom. "Commander, what happened?"
"I'm sorry sir, I'm not sure," Jevor replied, his voice giving away his annoyance. "That should've worked Captain; I'll look into it."
"Any damage?" the captain asked.
"No sir," Jevor replied.
The captain nodded at no one in particular, and then, since neither Yilaan nor Ivanovna were on duty at the moment (the latter was still recovering in sickbay), said, "Lt. Reiv, you have the bridge. I'll be in Sickbay checking on Dr. Giovanni's patients."
Lt. Reiv smiled broadly and went over to the captain's chair. Noting that it was much more comfortable than the conn chair, he continued smiling and absent-mindedly began to stroke the leather-like upholstery of it.
"Don't get too comfortable Reiv; I should be back shortly," said the captain, with a mock sternness in his voice.
Reiv turned around abruptly to look at the captain as he stepped into the turbolift to go to Sickbay; Reiv's face was a deep crimson, and the captain used every ounce of his `captainly decorum' to keep from laughing.
Ensign Gates shook her head at the display, and, getting back to the matter at hand, reported, "Tractor output maintaining at 148% over norm, Lt., and shearing on the beam still within tolerance."
Somewhat distracted, Reiv acknowledged her report.
On his way to Sickbay, the captain couldn't help but smile to himself at Reiv's youthful exuberance. 'That was me aboard the Potomac,' he thought to himself, recalling an old post to which he had been assigned as a young and brash Lieutenant, not unlike Reiv.
The captain arrived in Sickbay a moment thereafter, and walked in on Dr. Giovanni hearing a report from one of her nurses. Dr. Giovanni, not seeing the captain behind her, tapped her comm-badge, "Sickbay to Captain Freeman."
"Yes Doctor," the captain replied, very official in his tone of voice, and severely startling Dr. Giovanni.
"Captain you nearly gave me a heart attack!" the doctor said, clutching her chest. "You'll be pleased to hear that both patients have made a turn for the better; Ivanovna is awake and talking, and Bradley just got through a very difficult stage that nearly killed her. Both will be fine after sufficient recuperation."
"Nice job Doctor," the captain beamed, as the doctor ushered him into the room where Ensign Bradley and Lt. Ivanovna were recovering. The Lt. was sitting up in bed talking with one of the doctor's aides; Ensign Bradley was either asleep or still unconscious.
"Lt. how are you feeling?" Captain Freeman asked of Lt. Ivanovna as the aide moved aside.
"Better Captain, thank you," Ivanovna said weakly. "I should be able to return to duty in a couple shifts."
"Nonsense Lt., you are going to be here for another 36 hours, and then light duty for the next 4 days," the doctor snapped.
Ivanovna sighed and did not respond. The captain smiled at her and said, "It's alright Lt., the tactical station will still be around in a couple days."
Ivanovna nodded but did not smile back. What she had experienced on board the Larson was far more painful and far more profound than the captain or anyone else suspected. She would have to give it some thought once everyone wasn't pestering her asking how she was.
"Captain," Lt. Reiv's voice came over the intercom at that moment, "there are two ships on long range scan moving at high speed. Energy emissions may indicate weapons fire."
"Go to yellow alert and continue on course, I'll be up shortly," the captain responded. He nodded at the doctor and said, "Get some rest," to Lt. Ivanovna before heading up to the bridge.
The captain entered the bridge, and Lt. O'Shea reported, "We're now getting a distress signal from one of the ships."
"On screen Lt.," said the captain as he took over his chair from Lt. Reiv, who in turn moved back to the conn position.
"It is audio only sir," O'Shea replied. "On speakers."
The speakers came alive with the distorted distress call. "This is Damon Baktor of the Ferengi vessel Uleman. We are under attack by a ship of unknown configuration and need assistance. If any Federation vessel is within the sound of my voice, please respond!"
The bridge crew glanced at each other while the captain stood with his hands on his hips. "Well," Captain Freeman said after a momentary pause, "it looks like Baktor will get his help from us after all."
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